


B1-L130 & 3R1N

by Abhorsen44



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Crossover, Droids, Gen, Hobbit/Star Wars Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-27 16:09:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19016275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abhorsen44/pseuds/Abhorsen44
Summary: Protocol droid B1-L130 is not looking for an adventure, but when he is stranded on a mining planet adventure finds him. Featuring Bilbo and Thorin as C-3P0 and R2D2, essentially. Plus bonus Jedi Gandalf!





	1. B1-L130 loses his handkerchief

“Excuse me,” B1-L130 asked politely, “Has anyone seen a small green handkerchief?” He looked hopefully over the small group of mining droids crowded around him. The only light in the dingy cave came from the glow of display panels, not that any of the droids needed much light to see. Imagine, B1-L130 thought to himself, not being able to adjust your spectrum receptors to infrared! Those poor carbon-based life forms with their squishy bodies and limited five senses.

[What’s a handkerchief?], beeped a small drilling droid, waving an appendage over its head excitedly.

“Is that – are you wearing a hat?” asked B1-L130, to which the droid – who was indeed wearing a warm looking hat with ear flaps on its top-most carapace – beeped back [It’s my hat! I found it! It’s mine!], and rolled forwards to show B1-L130.

“It’s a lovely hat,” B1-L130 said gently, patting the hat carefully. The droid responded with a cheerful whistle that was quickly picked up by the two other drilling droids wheeling up behind him.

[130-FR, at your service! And these are 130M-BR and 131-FR!] The three drilling droids performed a choreographed twisting movement that seemed almost like a bow. B1-L130 noticed that the tallest one had a primitive axe stuck in its main data core. All of the mining droids looked a bit worse for wear. 131-FR, as he had been introduced, gave a series of short beeps that B1-L130 had to take a moment to translate.

“Is that Morse code?”

[You can understand him?!] beeped 130-FR, [That’s amazing! Usually only 130M-BR and I can understand him, the rest have to do an actual data link transfer to communicate!]

“Yes, I’m a translation protocol droid, I speak 6 million languages.”

[What’s a protocol droid doing in a mine?], beeped a digger droid from behind him.

[What’s your designation?], another chimed in.

[What in Mahal’s name is a handkerchief?], grumbled another in a series of low-toned beeps.

“Y-yes, of course. I am B1-L130. Greetings.” B1-L130 waved a hand awkwardly, then bowed; “I was on my way to an agricultural summit on the planet Shire when our ship was, um, misappropriated.”

[Pirates!], a loud excavator beeped, followed by shrill whistling from the assembled droids.

“They said it was a routine inspection and that we were grounded until a small mechanical discrepancy was resolved…” B1-L130’s voice trailed off.

130-FR scooted closer, letting out a comforting trilling noise; [And then?]

“And then they forcibly landed our ship, took the biological crew off to Yavanna-know’s-where, and stuck me in here for ‘storage’!” B1 finished miserably. “Me! A registered protocol droid! And-and-and I DON’T KNOW WHERE MY HANDKERCHIEF IS!”

[Why is this handkerchief thingy so important?], 130-FR asked.

“It’s just a small square of cloth, not of much importance in the grand scheme of things. Not that you can’t say a lot with just your handkerchief, mind you! It’s just, it’s just that it’s mine. The one thing that was given to me that I keep with me that is wholly and unequivocally mine. I am a silly droid, aren’t I? I suppose it’s easier to worry about a handkerchief than about my ship, or my crew,” B1-L130 said with a small shake of his head.

130-FR reached up to his hat and very gently ripped off the inner lining of one of the ear flaps, handing it bashfully to B1-L130; “Oh 130-FR, oh my dear, dear droid, I… Thank you. Thank you so much.” B1-L130 clung to his new handkerchief with one hand, gratefully holding 130-FR’s arm with the other. “What am I to do?”

A series of beeps rang out from droids around the room, and B1-L130 could barely make out a series of numbers amongst all of the noise. “Who’s 3R1N?”


	2. 3R1N is a bit rude

“Who’s 3R1N?” B1-L130 asked bewilderedly, clutching his new handkerchief (formerly a hat lining). 

[I’ll get him], beeped a droid who hadn’t spoken yet. B1-L130 thought he looked a bit like a gem analysis specialist he had seen on Coruscant, with multiple lenses and microscope connections paired with delicate hand attachments. The new droid headed for the elevator that had brought B1-L130 down into the cave, but instead of opening the door he went around the side and disappeared behind the structure. 

130-FR flapped his hand at B1-L130 to get his attention and whistled imperiously, trundling towards the rest of the mining droids. B1-L130 was introduced to the giant excavator (DW-L1N), a trio of smaller gem excavation specialists (D0-R1, N0-R1, and O0-R1), an ancient medical droid (0-1N), and a beam-laying structural droid (GL0-1N). GL0-1N and 0-1N started bickering about their descriptives; [I’m more of an architect, you old car-wash!] [Did you call me a garage? I’m still a medical droid, laddie, even though nowadays I fix more wheels than ligaments.] [For Mahal’s sake, 0-1N, TURN UP YOUR MICROPHONE!]. 

The resulting feedback as GL0-1N reached over to manually crank up 0-1N’s microphone dial caused all of the droids to flinch, and a low, bell-like beep filled the cavern. All of the mining droids quieted and turned towards the elevator, where the gem analysis droid was returning followed by a sleek, dark metallic blue astromech droid. This new droid had clearly seen combat and its chassis was streaked with laser fire along with re-entry burn marks. 

[Is this the droid?] the newcomer beeped sonorously, [He looks more like a grocer-bot than an ambassador.]

The droids around B1-L130 whistled in amusement, and B1-L130 straightened up to his full height; “I am a class 130 protocol droid, as a matter of fact, although one hardly needs to be a protocol droid to realize how rude you are being.” 

[You tell him, B1!], 130-FR beeped quietly from where he was hiding behind B1-L130’s legs. 

[B-L1N informs me that your ship was hijacked by Darth Smaug], the astromech beeped, managing to sound annoyed; [I would think you would be more concerned with that than some meaningless protocols.]

“Ex-excuse me, did you say Darth? Darth Smaug? Oh dear.” B1-L130 locked his knees so that he didn’t sway; “I was rather hoping this was more of a provincial mugging situation. A charming little space-highway robbery gone wrong, then a ransom paid and off we pop?”

[I don’t know what planet you’re from], the astromech replied, [but you’re lucky your crew wasn’t simply asphyxiated and dumped into space while you watched. That is what tends to happen on the outer dark planets.]

“Outer planets? Where are we? We weren’t supposed to be anywhere near the outer circle!”

[I don’t know where you were headed, little protocol droid, but where you ended up was the back end of hell. Welcome to Erebor.] With that the astromech turned and began a low conversation of beeps with the gem analysis droid, too quiet and fast for B1-L130 to easily pick up, although he had a feeling it was probably in code as well. 

“Oh dear, oh dear,” B1-L130 repeated to himself, holding his new handkerchief close to his chest plate. 130-FR leaned comfortingly against his legs, letting out a sad whistle. His reverie was interrupted by the blue astromech letting out a loud, rude blepping noise. [What do you MEAN the L1s are on the top level! Their elevator privileges have been revoked!]

[Like that has ever stopped them before], the gem analysis droid – B-L1N – beeped sassily.

[Call them back], the grumpy astromech beeped, and B-L1N obligingly trundled towards the elevator. The blue astromech ignored B1-L130, quickly rolling to each of the mining droids in turn and exchanging beeps and data chips. 130-FR stayed behind B1-L130.

B1-L130 looked down at the smaller droid. “Hiding?”

[Strategic retreat. 3R1N doesn’t exactly approve of the hat.]

“But it is such a handsome hat!” B1-L130 teased as 130-FR settled his hat more firmly on his cranial carapace, holding it in place as he made a rude gesture. 

The elevator creaked as the car racketed down, landing with a thump and spilling out two roller-ball astromechs and a hooded, human shaped figure in a gray cloak. [You’ll never guess what we found!!!], screeched the lighter-colored droid with a loud series of beeps. 

[F1L1! K1L1! What did I say about the elevator!], 3R1N beeped, rolling through the assembled droids to reach the smaller astromechs. 

“I was very glad to see them,” the hooded stranger said, “I would not have found you all hidden away here had they not been sneaking around the landing field.”

[THE LANDING FIELD?!] 3R1N bellowed a series of rude sounding beeps and extended what appeared to be a taser attachment, chasing F1L1 and K1L1 around the perimeter of the cave. 

B1-L130 flinched away as the hooded man appeared in front of him; “And what have we here? My poor Bilbo, you are a mess.” Holding out a familiar green handkerchief the man wiped the grime away from B1-L130’s shoulder-plate, hood falling back to reveal a well-worn, well-known face. 

“Master Gandalf!”

**Author's Note:**

> Short short bite-sized chapters to force me to start writing and posting again - thank you for reading!


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